


Random for the Fandom

by Incadove



Category: In the Bleak Midwinter (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Or Is It?, Pain, Romance, Wordcount: 100-500, just short drabbles, non Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incadove/pseuds/Incadove
Summary: Random short 100 word drabbles.  All non canon stuff.
Relationships: Anya/Ivan, Ivan/Anya, Luka/Galina, Omega/Anya
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Good Morning, my Love

**Author's Note:**

> Some fluffy some angst, welcome to the party kids. Grab a pillow, take off your shoes, stay awhile. LETS DO THIS!

He watches her eyes as they flutter in sleep and the corners of his lips raise a notch in smile. He likes it, likes the warmth of her body pressed to his, likes how her lips part as she takes slow and long inhales. The way the tendrils of her bangs dance with each soft breath. He wants to kiss her, to wake her from her moment of sleep but he doesn't. Instead he watches as her chest rises and falls, watches the serenity on her face and laments how it's only there in rest.

Her nose twitches and for a brief second he thinks the peace they found in sleep is about to end, but it doesn't. Instead her body turns and small, slender arms curl into his chest. His smile widens as his own arm circles her back. Warmth, peace, may the morning never end for them, he wishes to himself while nuzzling into her hair.


	2. Bimbo Wraith Lady

Time had a funny way of playing games with him these days. It wasn't the lack of sunlight that left him in a daze of time or day, but the constant in and out of consciousness. His mouth tasted of iron, of copper, of blood, and the sting on his lip informed him of the latest laceration to join the many he already sported. 

Hazel eyes highlighted with shades of amber narrowed at his assailant, and with a twist of a smirk he spoke, “Is that all you got?”

The petit lips of his captor smiled back at him prettily, “No.”


	3. Regret

He wanted to unsay the words the moment he saw the effect they had on her. He didn't regret having said them so much as he regretted the pain they inflicted on her. Oh, but if he could take it back, erase the creases by her eyes as her face scrunched with heartache. 

His throat constricted, his mouth felt dry, and he knew. He knew what she was thinking and what her parting lips were about to say. 

"Why would you… how could you?"

His own hazel eyes refused to turn away from her, captured by the beauty she held even while crystalline tears sparkled the corners of her eyes. Eyes of a forest beholden to a storm. 

Still, he didn't regret his words.

Focused on her, he didn't miss the minute shift in her stance. Watched the wall she threw up to defend herself. And that was what hurt the most, watching her, feeling her, and knowing that she felt she had to.

Against him. 

Because even while he stood there, and the words hung over their heads refusing to be erased, she still believed. Believed in the universe, believed that it wasn't wrong, and believed that what he knew she felt was wrong. 

A small smile tugged at his lips, weighed down by sadness, but determined to show the woman that her words were okay. Her feelings were valid, even if they were ones he didn't want. Slowly, he raised both hands to cup her cheeks, and lowered his forehead to her own. His hands were rough and calloused against her soft, warm cheeks as the tears he saw before chose then to run freely.

"I can't Ivan, I don't want…" her voice was soft as it trailed off, though it cut into his heart, serrated it with jagged edges.


	4. Don't Back Down to no One

Quick steps ran forward, throwing his weight behind him he landed on his hip and slid, reaching out and grasping a steel bar to swing him left behind a broken wall. His lungs burned for air and he greedily took the few moments under fire to aquesent. Bullets sang past overhead, as he held his gun at the ready. Eventually they would need to reload, there would be a break in the onslaught and that was when he would make his move. 

It didn’t take long for the hail of bullets to let up a fragment, but it was enough that Ivan quickly sprang back to his feet to run. Keeping his head lowered as he beat his feet to the ground, determined to see the sun rise another day; figuratively at least. 

Ivan ran in a dogged game of cat and mouse for what felt like hours, dodging between buildings, through alleyways, between debris. His pursuers were relentless, and he couldn’t seem to break the tail they had on him. He just needed to get a fraction of a mile further and he would be well into human territory. Slipping past yet another dilapidated building, Ivan could just make out the human watch tower in the distance. 

One final sprint and he would finally be back behind human lines. Muscles tired with fatigue, he pushed off against the crumbling stones and ran. The distance quickly closed, and for a brief second he thought he had made it. Then the pain came, a burning sear in his right calf that left him falling into the wet snow below him. 

“Fuck!” Ivan called out, his voice laced with the pain. Rolling over and reaching for his calf, he didn’t have a chance to register the small form running at him before the weight was on him. Small hands grabbed his arms, trying to haul him back up to his feet.

“Hurry! Get up, Ivan!” His mind was turning foggy as the pain receptors were busy firing messages in his brain, but what he did registure in the next three seconds was that the voice definitely belonged to a female, that the female had blonde hair, and that she wasn’t really all that strong. 

“Freckles?” And that was his intelligent response.


	5. Sleep is no Escape

He can still see their faces when he sleeps. Their voices are still alive and warm and welcoming, full of love and advice. Some nights, it's happy memories that replay in his dreams. His 7th birthday for instance, when his father had brought home the busted radio. He had spent hours laying on his parents bed that night watching his dad tinker with the thing, asking questions about the whys and hows of it all. Until his dad had jumped up, excitement in his face, and turned it on for him. He remembered the smile on his mothers face, and could still hear the laughter. Could still feel the warmth of her embrace as she picked him up and danced the night. Happy memories. Happy times.

Other nights, though, were not as kind. A darkness crept in, and the warmth became hotter. Fire burning the walls. Screams echoing down corridors. Weight bearing beams falling and rooms being flooded with poisonous air. Wails from his brother, his father shoving them, his mother crying as she screams for them to run. 

Nights like those usually left him wandering the hallways looking for an empty corner for himself. He wasn’t the only haunted soldier in the base. And on nights like these, with cigarette in hand, he could see just how many more were like him. Men, who during the day were full of laughter, would walk the halls at night with dead eyes. 

It came as no surprise when Anya joined their ranks of midnight wanderers. Her disapproving head shakes whenever she caught him red handed with smoke drifting about his person did have an uncanny way of amusing him, however.


	6. I'm a Clown For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my crack ship... Lulina!

Dark hair slips between his fingers. Even now, even after all this time, he still marvels at just how smooth her hair is. Closing his hand, lest the hair fully leave his grasp, he brings it up to his lips to leave a kiss on it. 

Her eyes are amused, she's normally amused by his antics. He loves that about her, loves how all his silly romantic gestures never go unnoticed by her humor. 

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispers into her hair. He feels her hand reach up to rub his course cheek before roughly grabbing the collar of his uniform and pulling him into her kiss. 

It's desperate, it's fear, but it's warm and it feels like home. He melts into it, drawing her close into his arms. 

Briefly, she breaks contact to whisper back "I'm the lucky one." She smiles into the kiss, and he once again thanks the universe for bringing them together.


	7. Do You Mock me Good Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Play time is fun time. Ivanya

Rose tinted lips twitch into a smile. He can see her fighting it, she's trying to not smile at his quip, but it’s a battle she’s losing. It spurs him onward, emboldened by her mirth. 

“You know it's true.” His own lips rise to smirk at the blonde sitting cross legged before him. His cheek resting in the palm of his hand as he leans forward, inches closer to her. 

“No, you’re wrong.” Her eyebrow quirks at him, as she continues the struggle of not laughing outright. 

“That so, well, we could always ask a less invested person for their thoughts on the matter.” He watches as her green eyes suddenly go large in what he assumes is mock dread. 

She finally manages to wipe the almost smile from her lips as her mouth drops open to complete her new playful look. “You wouldn’t dare!”

What she doesn’t know is he would, he would do anything to keep the mirth, to keep the playfulness. He would level a mountain, tear down every wall in the building, if it meant she would laugh. It wouldn't, however, so he doesn’t.

“Watch me.” He moves to stand from the bed, intending to walk away and see just how far he could play the ruse, but she stops him. Forcibly. Her weight she throws on him, and he lands on his back. Instinctually his arms come up to grab at her sides. A laugh, the most melodic tune he has ever heard, comes from her. Her hands by his head, her eyes watching his own. He's not sure what face he's making back at her. He hopes, faintly, that it's one that makes her stay where she is.

But she doesn’t. And the warmth leaves with her. It was a passing moment and even as she apologies for jumping on him, the laughter is still on her lips. It makes it okay. 

Anything for her, anything for her smile.


	8. My Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall not wholly die. Ivanya

He had been worried when she had failed to meet him at the designated hour. That worry had made him stray out from the rendezvous point, out past the human territory, closer to the android city than he would like to be. It was there he had seen the first traces of her blood. At first a cold rage had fueled him, a thought that the monsters had betrayed her. But the rage slowly ebbed as more of her blood was discovered, replaced by the fear of what he hoped he wouldn't find. 

At that moment, when he came across her body, huddled in a corner in a long abandoned ruin, a barrage of emotions had hit him at once. Relief he had found her, anger that she had been injured, a soul crushing despair when she didn't respond to his calling her name. Time itself stopped for him, the sight of her lifeless form draining all the strength from him with a wave of ice regret. His knees buckled, landing him roughly on the floor near her still form.

His fingers trembled as he brushed her bang fring from her face. His breath fell short when he saw her eyes were still open, dull and lifeless. A quick movement brought his hand to her face, closing her eyes as it slid over her features. 

Tearing his gaze away from her face, he reached out to lift her slight body into his arms. Cold and still, unnerving, and a picture he was sure would haunt him in nightmares to come.

Hands slick with her cold blood, cold like her body was, it coated him like a frozen layer of red encircling him in her web of self. His only hope, and he had to force it to the forefront of his mind, was that she would awaken again.


	9. Why Are we Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those with nothing to lose are the ones who lost it all. Ivanya

His mouth snapped shut, jaw clenched tight, and hazel eyes narrowed dangerously. It took a conscious effort to fight back the urge to not punch the other man in the face. Not like it would do any good besides hurting his own hand, the other man was made of brick. 

His shoulders shook with the effort to repress his anger, unfounded or not. The man had no right to ask what he did of his own sister. Anya was a human, not a pawn in his twisted game of chess to be used and abused whenever he felt the need arise. And if she wasn't going to stand up for herself, then he damn well would for her.

It took him a second to collect himself. Alexei seemed determined to throw anya to the wolves, to dangle her in front of their drooling mouths as a morsel of desirable delicacy. But there had to be another way, he just needed time to find it.

"That's not going to happen." His voice is resolute, though he doubted his own conviction. 

"On whose authority?" Alexei responded back, either amused or tired at his continued efforts to stop the mission from proceeding; he wasn't sure. 

"Mine." His hands closed with his fingers curling inward, the fist he uses to slam on the table top, resentment dripped from his words. Because not this time, not after what happened last, never again. 

Alexei's drawn sigh fell on deaf ears, and even before the words tumbled out, he knew what was coming. "Ivan, do not let your feelings cloud your judgment. This is the best plan, you know it, she knows it."

He chanced a glance in her direction, to gauge her reaction and response to her brothers willingness to see her metaphorically hang. What he saw took the wind right out from his sails. Her eyes were large and they were watching him, her expression unreadable to his trained eyes. 

What was she thinking? How could it be okay to follow this line of action? How, or when, had the humans lost their humanity?

His eyes turned downward, staring at his clenched hands resting on the tabletop.

"I'll go too, then."


	10. A Way to Heal The Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death looked at life... And loved. Ivanya

A flick of a wrist, a twist of a smile, a sway of a hip and he was dancing. The rhythm moved through his soul, and the music guided his feet. He may not have been the best dancer on the floor, but it was fun and sensual, and he felt addicted to the distraction. 

It also usually ended in nice moments of respite from life.

Tonight, however, he had other plans. Sure, the burnette was fun and all, but he had wanted for another partner, a more blonder partner. But said blonde seemed intent on ruining his plans as she had yet to appear within the mess hall’s festivities.

Taking his eyes off the burnette, he did a quick sweep of the area, it was then a flash of gold finally caught his attention, leading him out to the hallway. Her figure was distant, making her way away from the mess hall. Curiosity got the better of him as he decided to follow, first to see where she was heading to by herself, then to protect as it became clear her direction was toward the exit to the surface. 

He hung back, a passing thought that she had need to be alone with her thoughts, but no sooner had he emerged from the underground entrance than he was struck frozen. There she stood, an angel of ice, still and unmoving, seemingly lacking in all the warmth he had come to associate with her. 

Enraptured, he couldn’t stop himself from closing the distance between them. 

“We are supposed to spend Christmas with family, but mine are gone.” Her voice was even, no sadness, just accepting of her reality. Which wasn’t exactly true, he supposed, Alexei was her older brother, even if she refused to see in him the man she used to know. Or, perhaps, her line of thinking was also correct, the man Alexei may have been likely was dead.

Turning to face her, his eyes contemplative behind the screen of his helmet, Ivan spoke. “And loved ones.”

Still her eyes didn’t leave whatever had captured her gaze, without turning to him, and her voice low, Anya pleaded. “Ivan, don’t.”

Fair enough, he thought to himself wistfully. But she still owed him a dance, regardless if she knew it or not. Turning to her fully, he reached out his hand to her as he bowed grandly.

“May I have this dance then, at least?”

Her hand slowly, hesitantly, landed on his own. Her own eyes finally coming around to meet his, a hint of the playfulness he now associated with her playing at her features. “You may.”

With a sway of his hips he led her into his waiting ams, her chest pressed firmly against his own before he sent her off twirling away. Laughter danced merrily in the air with the pair of them. No fears, no worries, just them and the silence of the snow covered night. Time, he thought, had no place for them, he had cast it aside for something entirely selfish for himself, and for her wholly needed. 

The laugh that passed her lips at his antics was a sweet melody, the only music needed. It tickled his ears and brought forth his own smiling laughter. The pair of them, dancing in the not still night probably would look a fool, but it didn’t matter right then, his high on her laughter fuelling him further. He understood all too well that life was what you made of it, always had been, always would be. Anya’s hair spun in a halo of molten gold as she was quickly twirled back into his awaiting arms. Her breath came heavy, eyes of spring met eyes of autumn, and this time he didn’t release her. This time, he held her to him, basked in the glow of her flushed cheeks. She didn’t push back, her smile infectious to him, her love radiating a warmth that melted the world around them. 

“God, you’re beautiful, Anya.” 

He would have kissed her then, if they hadn’t been outside.


	11. The World and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ITS MISHA! MY BABY!

It's raining above ground. He knew because his brother had come into their room, drenched with a pool of water forming at his feet. 

He wonders what the rain would look like? As it fell from the heavens, collecting in the streets and washing down the buildings. 

Would it look like tears? The ones the adults shed when they think no one is watching, when they grieve for their fallen comrades?

In the hallway, just before the exit into the tunnels, and just after the war room, if he holds his breath and listens, he thinks he can almost make out the sound. Tiny drums thrumming against the blanket of protection. 

He wonders, then, when the day will come when he too is welcomed into the world.


	12. What's Been Taken From Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round two, FIGHT! Omega/Anya.... Sorry Ivan, but you know your my fav right?

“Fight for us! If you wont, I will!”

Snowflakes softly drifted down from the sky, dusting their hair with the ice crystals, giving the small woman before him an almost ethereal shine. She was too beautiful for this world, and his. Eyes the color of coal trail downward to the hands fisted by her side, the gentle glow of her soulmate marker illuminating the air around it, casting shadows against her clothes. He had only one answer he would ever give her, and today he would give it again.

“No.” 

She had no place in his world, nor he in hers. He could see in the set of her stance she wasn’t ready to give up, if he walked away there was a too high probability she would follow. But her voice sounded hollow, even to his ears. 

“Why? Why won’t you try?” 

He could feel the corners of his face wanting to turn up into a wry smile, but they didn’t and he wouldn’t give in to the satisfaction of her attention. “Leave Anya, it isn’t safe for you to be about alone. Go back to your humans.”

“Then tell me you don’t love me.”

The bliss of a lie would keep him warm in the winter, wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his only comfort. Squaring his shoulders, he prepared to do just that, but as his dark eyes met her lively ones his voice stuck in his throat. Did he love her? Did he even want to go down that line of thinking? That answer was simple.

“No.”


	13. Newton's Third Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theory of If the wraiths brainwashed Ivan to fight against the humans and androids. Anya/?

That day had started out as any other day had while being a captive to Delta. It had seemed ordinary enough; she woke, took her breakfast in the not-study while reading a random encyclopedia. It hadn't been expected then when Omega had come stumbling into the suite, eyes red, gaping hole in his right shoulder. It hadn't been expected when he explained he had got away, just as it hadn't been expected when he said Ivan didn't. And it certainly hadn't been expected when they received word a week later "her for him."

That had led to this, and Ivan was there and she was here. And words were being said but all she could hear was "No" and that was the mirror of what she wanted to say. And why was he still there instead of here?

"Anya, if you do not join us, I will shoot."

How exactly had this come to pass? Him there, and her here? Why? The look in his eyes was full of hate, directed at her, directed at them. His gun at the ready, aimed at her. A part of her was glad, armed with the knowledge that she would come back, so her as the target would work best. The other part of her grappling with the feeling of betrayal, because he had promised he had her back.

Five feet apart, that was all that separated the tip of her nose to the end of his rifle. Would he shoot? Did she think he could ever shoot her? Had she thought she was special to him? 

The husky voice that had pleaded with her to leave had led her to believe it was so. The eyes that said he didn't want her to leave had made her feel it was so. So why was he there, and not here, warning that he would shoot if she didn't go there? 

The snow settled between them as the words floated in the air. 

"Choose." He said, but how could she? It was an impossible reality that he was forcing her into. She was scared, but she was also going to stand her ground. A pawn in no one's game but her own, resolute.

Her feet planted firmly, her back straight, shoulders square, she would fight for this and in a way for him. "No, Ivan you…" 

Words came quick, but the bullet was quicker. The shot ran out, heat spread through her chest, and then the world fell dark and silent.

She missed the look of realization, missed the consciousness break free from the shell that encased it, missed the knowledge of what had just transpired clear in hazel eyes. 

Mostly, she missed the scream of a man's heart being split in two.


	14. FML

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was given the prompt "wrestling" Ivan amd Alexei

"Lucky shot old man." Ivan spat, wiping at the fresh cut above his left brow. 

The smile on the other man's face looked out of place, and Ivan was happy to oblige in removing it. Once again settling into a defensive stance, Ivan waited for an opening to present itself. 

"You will be driven back if all you do is defend, Ivan." Alexei offered, wringing his right hand before he too settled into his stance; offencive. 

The ginger let the smirk on his face grow even wider, because nah, he knew how this was going to play out. 

Alexei lunged, favoring his left hip, his right arm cocked back, ready to drive the connecting fist into its intended target. It was unfortunate that he only had the one arm, didn't really make the sparring fair. Regardless, the old man was capable enough to hold his own, his sheer strength enough to out match some. 

With a quick dodge, Ivan evaded the right hook and simultaneously threw his weight via his shoulder into Alexei's solar plexus. The move successfully causing the older man to momentarily lose balance and take a stumbling few steps back. The younger man took full advantage of the opening, prepared to drive home a kick that would land his commander on his rear, but stopped short when he noticed a streak of yellow from his peripheral. 

The moment of distraction was not wasted on Alexei as he quickly regained his balance and threw his own weight into the younger man, tackling him to the ground. 

And that, as they say, was that. 

Anya walked into the room, gingerly stepped over their legs, and continued on into the next with an eye roll not exactly directed at the boys. 

The all too smug smile on Alexei's face tempted Ivan's fist, but rules were rules, and he had lost this round. Standing back up Alexei reached out to take hold of Ivan's own hand and helped him up. 

"Still got it."

Hazel eyes frowned. "For now."


	15. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Send help, I need it. Ivan and Galina

"This? This is your grand invention that's supposed to win the war? Save humanity?" 

Ivan rounded on Galina, holding the fan, and that was what it was, up for closer inspection. 

Said woman stayed quiet, she was used to people questioning her inventions thus far. She had nothing to prove.

"It's a fan." 

Exasperated, she sighed. Seriously? Wasn't he supposed to be mister know it all in the North? Great Bane of the South and his great brain?

Speak slowly Galina thought to herself. Go slow to make sure he doesn't miss any part of the explanation. That would force her to repeat herself, which she was loath to do. 

"It's not just a fan, it's an air economizer displacement unit. And this," here she lifted a hand to point casually at the not fan, "is a tiny model of one." 

He didn't think it possible, but the frown on his face deepened. Galina was mocking him. Of that he was sure, of how an HVAC system was supposed to clean the air though, he was not sure.

"Right..." This woman was annoying, and would be a thorn in his side for far too many days to come.

Salvation came in the form of Luka. Thank fucking god. He came waltzing into the tech room, a smile on his face, Misha in tow. 

But then the chaos erupted, and the tick in his brow grew as well.

Luka, being Luka, probably caught the eye of the second occupant in the room and stumbled. Second occupant tried to react and help steady Luka. She failed, they were both sprawled in a mass of arms, legs, blushes and sailor curses on the floor. Misha? Well Misha thought it was a game and jumped on them, current owner of Mountain awkward.

God, he needed a smoke.


	16. Good Bye For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet me at the end, when you have lost it all.... Ivan and Luka

For a moment, the words caught in his chest. A net that held everything he wanted to say at bay. Because what could he say? I'm sorry, it sucks? Better luck next time? The sun had risen with her arrival and set with her departure. He was sad too, she was an amazing person and even better friend. His friendship with her wasn't over though, wonder if his forlorn buddy would say the same.

"I know you're there, ya know. Either come in or leave, but don't keep standing there looking like I stole your teddy…. Again."

"You never did apologize for that." And for the record, the teddy hadn't been his, but rather a gift for the then four year old Misha.

The half hearted noncommittal snort from Ivan led Luka further into the room toward his friend. Really, what was he to say in this situation. Anya had chosen her soulmate, the other half to form her whole. Ivan had set himself up for this. It wasn't that he lacked sympathy, but rather an understanding on why it turned out this way. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed Ivan looked all the picture of a heartbroken young man, head bowed, shoulders hunched, piece of fabric gripped between his hands; dejected.


	17. What They Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan and Anya and a slight disagreement... Very slight.

He's tired, and she's tired and together they are exhausted. Her eyes are searching, looking through his soul, trying to find something, anything, besides the hate she finds. He knows it, and she knows it, but it's together that's the problem. 

His smile is wry, and his eyes, she sees, are just a little bit sad. Just a touch desperate, wanting everything of her and from her but unable or unwilling to give it to her. 

"I would give you everything, if you asked." There's an edge to his voice, leading to darker places than she wishes to go. "Ask me to lay down my weapon, I would. Ask me to lay down my life, it's yours. But Freckles, don't ask for my forgiveness."

"It wasn't their fault though, the wraith's were behind everything." Her own voice a whisper, a plea. We can move past this, she thinks, don't let this hold us back.

His hands are at her face, calloused and slender fingers pulling the hair from her vision, securing it behind her ears. It does no good, it's turning blurry anyway.

His voice is soft, but it hurts the same as a knife. "Even if… At one point, one side shot at the other. One side drew first blood, and it didn't stop. Even after the streets ran red. Neither side deserves forgiveness. Ask me for anything, but that. I can stop hating them, but I will never forgive them. Please understand."

It hurts because she does, she understands why Delta would never stop hating the humans, why Gamma would always shun them, why Omega would never trust them. She also understands why the humans would never forgive. It doesn't stop her from wanting it anyway. So maybe, in this, she's also a bit greedy. 

She can't let go of him though, and it manifests in her arms circling around his waist. Her nose digging into his chest, if time could stop, please let it be now. He smells the same as always, rusty and smokey and like an engine that ran too hot to touch. It's his smell and it's one she will commit to memory, of a man who loved her too much.

And he knows, and she knows, and together they stand there. His lips brush the top of her head, his arms clinging to her, enveloping her, crushing her to him. Her own eyes are tightly shut, trying to deny the tears that fall regardless. His next words don't help in her futile effort. Whispered for her ears alone, a soft "I love you."

It takes all that she has to let him go, to remove herself from his embrace. But she can't face him, can't look upon the hurt in his eyes. She can, however, hear the shuffling of feet and she knows that he has turned his back to her. Footsteps come heavy to her ears, then, but the silence left in his wake is louder.

He knew it, and she knew it, and together they knew that this time it would be their final goodbye.


	18. Do You Want to Play a Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pining! So much pining! Ivanya.

Her smile comes easy around him, whether she feels safe to be herself or that her guard is finally lowered, he cares not. But that smile with a peek of laughter shining through energizes him in a way he didn't know was possible. He feels like a rechargeable battery and she's his power source. 

She keeps him going during the moments he would prefer to just stop.

His calloused and war dirtied hands trace the curves of her face, and for a brief second he worries if he is worthy to touch her. Where he goes a trail of bodies follows, so would not his hands also leave a trail of red? 

His eyes drown in the bottomless depths of green, until her fluttering lashes save him and close. Her tongue wets her lips, and his breath catches as his eyes follow the movement. His world may be war torn and full of heartache and death, but surely it was okay to love this one woman. 

Fuck. But he hated how desperate for her love he was.

It's a quick shuffle, just as he uses one hand to brace and lift his abdomen up, his other hand reaching around from her check to the back of her neck. There's an urgency in his movement, a need, a curiosity to know what she would taste like. What sounds he could elicit from her. But no sooner had he tried than a wad of something is unexpectedly shoved into his face, it offballences him with the sheer weight behind the object and he falls to once again lie on his back. 

He doesn't remove the fabric from his face, but he does feel the weight of the lithe form remove herself from his lap she had been straddling. He feels the shift on the bed as she stands, doesn't miss the sound of her softly padded steps as she hurries to escape his room.

Someday they would stop running from each other. But that someday was not today.

In the silence, it's just him now in the room, his brother sleeping over with a friend. His head turns and the fabric makes its new home on the floor. It's her bennie, given to her from Luka, now apparent owner is him.

How quaint, he muses, but also, fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed my randomness!


End file.
